


the nook of a cousin universe

by plathitudes



Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: BDSM themes, Gen, Young Joscelin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:36:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plathitudes/pseuds/plathitudes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“observe,” he says, and his blades blind you as his hands move but you force your eyes open until your sight stings with brightness. “observe,” he says, and sends a knife spinning towards your head, trusting that you will duck.</p><p>AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the nook of a cousin universe

how it was:

“observe,” he says, and his blades blind you as his hands move but you force your eyes open until your sight stings with brightness. “observe,” he says, and sends a knife spinning towards your head, trusting that you will duck.

(you will find that anafiel delaunay is a man you understand. he moves like someone with a wound, careful and slow, always checking to make sure the bleeding hasn’t started up again. he says that honour and knowledge are the two most valuable things a man can possess, and that you possess both. you say, “and love?” without allowing wryness into your voice, and he smiles and doesn’t smile and says, “oh, love.” you understand him. you do not allow yourself the privilege of liking him.)

(phedre is a girl you neither like nor understand. you find yourself watching her, all the time; it baffles you how someone so curved, so yielding, can have the bright, hard edges that she does. you fix your gaze above her head when she speaks to you, to avoid the red mote in her eye. it lingers in your vision like light shattering on blades, arcing towards you.)

:

how it may have been:

:

“observe,” he says, and the whip comes down hard on the woman’s back, and you stare at the hot welts and feel desire, sick and new and terrible, simmer in you like bile. the image of you bringing the lash down on her pulses in your mind, and with it comes the wondering of you being the one to kneel, to bite back tremors and endure in silence until the breath in your lungs is replaced by pain and every pump of your heart severs you from your body with bronze knives -

“perhaps,” says the man, and you look up, swallowing hard and making an effort to focus your gaze, “we’ve put you in the wrong house.”

you can think of no response, caught between two types of desire, and the man laughs.

(the first time you see phedre, you’re stepping out of a carriage with anafiel delaunay’s presence warm behind you. she’s younger than you and her mouth twists in anger when your new lord presses you forward, a hand on your back.)

(you try to catch her gaze over dinner, try to smile at her. the only time she looks pleased is when you distractedly knock over the glass of watery wine, and the stain spreads throughout the table cloth and drips onto lord delaunay’s lap. you flush. she laughs.)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about my weird pretentious formatting and stuff but I couldn't figure out how else to make the fic work and differentiate between AU and reality even though I'm sure you're all smart people and you could tell even if I hadn't done the little helpful guide like "hey this part is an AU!" and "this part is canon!" except in a more obnoxious way. Also I'm sorry I can't write anything over 1k for this fandom it's strange also I get poetic and purple and do horrible run-ons so.
> 
> Joscelin! Yay!
> 
> Title is from a poem by Bob Hicok, "Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally A Love Poem".


End file.
